Kid Gloves
by tmcala
Summary: Kenny was sure he could die in this moment and be perfectly happy. -Butters/Kenny-


**Kid Gloves~**

Butters' room looked…a hell of a lot like Bebe's, if he was completely honest. Kenny would usually find this funny, except his head hurt way too much at the moment. Fluttering his blue eyes closed, he focused on the light touch of fingers across his forehead.

Kenny wasn't surprised that Butters' hands didn't feel like a normal guy's. They were soft and small, like a girl's. His fingers felt so nice on Kenny's skin, brushing through his blonde hair, lightly skimming over his rapidly bruising eye.

The rain could be heard pounding down on the roof and involuntary shivers wracked Kenny's body, causing those lithe fingers to pause for a quick moment before continuing their activities. He'd been out walking, after being kicked out of the house by his drunken dad, when Butters had found him. The small boy was distraught at the sight of Kenny's discolored face and battered appearance. Butters had more or less dragged him to his house.

Now, they sat in his bedroom. His nice, warm, clean bedroom, so unlike Kenny's. The taller blonde was situated between Butters' legs and those _fingers_ were tantalizingly mapping his skin. Kenny sighed, relaxing into the other boy's body. "You're gonna be just fine," Butters murmured into his ear.

Butters was good at this comforting stuff. He always had been. When Kenny was into that cat piss shit, he was the one who sat there and rubbed his back, the one who took his hood down when he blew chunks. They weren't exactly the best of friends, Kenny knew, but he'd always kind of had a soft spot for Butters. The tiny blonde was just so cute and naïve. People like that always intrigued Kenny. "I know," he replied.

Kenny was at ease, which was a rare occurrence. Between the rain and the heat wafting through the vents and Butters' soft hands and the lullaby-sounding song being hummed directly into his ear, Kenny was certain he could die right that second and be completely and totally happy. And that _never_ happened.

Butters paused in his song to press his lips against Kenny's cheek. Alright, scratch that. Kenny probably _was_ dead. If heterosexual heaven was filled with boobs, then gay heaven was probably filled with Butters Stotch and those borderline-magical fingers of his. Kenny's head was suddenly feeling a lot better. He suddenly flipped around onto his knees and faced a surprised looking Butters.

The springs in the bed creaked slightly as Kenny leaned in, causing Butters to slowly inch back against the headboard. Butters' light blue eyes were filled with confusion. He was probably a little afraid, Kenny realized. Butters had to be handled with kid gloves. Pathetic, my-dad-just-beat-the-shit-out-of-me Kenny was someone Butters knew what to do with. Normal, slightly aggressive, sexual Kenny was another matter.

Kenny didn't want to scare Butters. He wanted Butters to caress his face for the rest of his life, or at least until the next time he died. His hands, which were awkwardly large and calloused, an antonym to those of Butters, reached towards the smaller boy's face. Kenny's darker blue eyes bore into Butters', searching for that key, the thing that made this little boy who had every reason to be sad _so _happy. A hand was placed cautiously against each of Butters' cute round cheeks. The lanky blonde couldn't help but notice how _breakable_ the other boy seemed. "Butters," Kenny began, "how come you're grounded all the time?"

Butters flushed. "W-well, I'm a b-bad kid, Kenny. I do bad things a lot and my parents get sore with me," the blonde quickly explained.

The worst part, from Kenny's perspective, was that Butters actually believed every word of that. Here the kid sat, comforting _Kenny_ of all people. Kenny who actually _did_ do bad things a lot. Butters never judged, and that…well, that was kind of beautiful, Kenny thought. "That's shit, Butters," Kenny replied definitively. "You're awesome."

The blonde smiled shyly, still flushed in that way-too-cute manner. "Th-that's really nice of y-you to say."

Kenny smiled back. Not shy at all, because if there was one thing Kenny McCormick wasn't, it was shy. That grin, the one he _knew_ made all the girls crawl over his feet, spread across his face and he watched more of that delicious blush creep across Butters' cheeks.

He was kind of ashamed of himself, doing this to poor little Butters. On the other hand, his dad had pushed him around pretty hard. He could pull the concussion card if he had to.

But, for now, Kenny, still damp from being out in that pounding rain, turned back around into Butters' chest and relaxed his hoodless head into the other boy's shoulder. Tentatively, those addictive fingers found their way back to Kenny's messy blonde hair and bruised face, memorizing their terrain, and the quiet song began to wind its way back into his ears, complete with the occasional stutter that made it so very _Butters_. If this was heaven, Kenny would be sure to do less of those "bad things".

* * *

**A/N: I heart Kenny/Butters :D Not as much as Kenny/Kyle, but close. **


End file.
